Their End
by AJ Rayne
Summary: A collection of vignettes about each of Noble Team's members. Not coming out in order, but eventually will be arranged as such.
1. Jorge 052

Author's Note: Bungie owns them.

* * *

**The Big**** Man**

Jorge let go.

Six fell quickly, the planet's gravitational pull catching her immediately. She disappeared from his view and he turned away, silently wishing her luck. He'd already wasted time that he didn't have, but even as he moved away from the docking bay opening, he couldn't help looking over his shoulder at Reach, hoping against hope that he could prevent it from getting glassed.

Carefully, he armed the slipspace drive, his movements mechanical. He didn't regret his decision, wasn't afraid of dying, but he wished he'd known he'd set foot on Reach for the last time. He would have taken a second look or said goodbye in a way that gave him peace. In any case, he was certainly saying goodbye in a big way now.

_Thirty __seconds__. _

When he was sure the drive was armed, he turned around and looked out into space. From this distance, Reach looked as peaceful as it did in his memory. In the 30 years he'd been a soldier, his earliest memories of Reach always had a way of reminding him of his humanity, even in his darkest days when he thought he was nothing more than a walking tank.

_Twenty __seconds__._

He trusted Noble Team to make it count and he knew they would fight the Covenant until their dying breaths, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that. They were the best of the best and humanity needed them if they were going to survive this war. Beyond Reach being his home, it was their last stronghold. If Reach fell...

_Ten__ seconds__._

He could hear incoming enemy personnel behind him, but didn't bother picking up the machine gun at his feet. Needles and plasma began to mark him, but he didn't move, didn't even flinch.

_One__ second__. _

Jorge closed his eyes.

-fin-


	2. B320

**B****320**

A second could be the length of the lifetime when it was your last.

Kat could feel her body shutting down even as rage bubbled up in her at being caught so stupidly by a lucky shot.

She saw Carter turning towards her as if in slow motion, ready to respond to her jibe about Holland's priorities. She could almost hear his answer, had known him long enough to know that he would feel the need to reprimand her even though he wanted to laugh at the absurdity as well. There were few things she could count on but he was one of them.

He would not take this well.

Emile and Jun stood near Carter, both frozen as the shock of that sniper shot seemed to dull their better instincts. She wanted to tell them to start shooting, to tell Jun to pick up his beloved sniper rifle and shoot the hell out of whatever did this to her. Emile usually acted before he thought but he didn't move. Maybe it was a mixture of shock and exhaustion, but for a brief moment, they were more human than Spartan.

Guess they liked her after all.

Her vision began to darken even as she was turning, being caught. She looked up at Six, saw her reflection in the other Spartan's visor. She would have liked to have seen the end of all this, to fight alongside Noble Team one last time. This was not how she wanted to go, but some decisions were out of her hands. A bitter smile creased her face.

_See__ you __on__ the __other __side_.


	3. S259

Author's note: Bungie owns the good stuff.

* * *

**S-259**

Carter smiled. It was certainly not an occasion for smiling, even more so considering he was not usually one to do it. However, there was a first time for everything and in his case, a last.

He coughed and flecks of blood joined the larger splatters on the pelican's controls. Blood was beginning to pool on the ground from the numerous wounds he'd sustained when they had fought their way out of Sword Base. He knew he didn't have much longer and already the edges of his vision were beginning to gray. All the same, he still managed to shake the two banshees on his tail.

If that wasn't something to smile about he didn't know what was. He wasn't a proud man, but he allowed himself a few concessions, considering. Even with one foot in the grave, he was still a Spartan and 21 years of training and fighting weren't for nothing. At that thought, his smile cooled. He was hoping to at least round that out to 25, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

With heightened awareness, he noted that the two yellow markers on his radar were slowly getting closer to a very big red one. He didn't have to be there to know that Six was leading the charge and Emile was making sure she didn't get taken out from behind. Funny how all it took to get Emile in line was to find another Spartan who was more of a loose cannon. Then again, Emile knew that they needed to get that AI to the Autumn and if there was one thing Carter couldn't fault the other Spartan, it was his focus on the mission. As for Six, he meant what he'd said to her. The AI had chosen well.

It hurt to breathe and it felt like his lungs were filled with fluid which probably meant that they most likely were. Carter took his gloves off and stared down at his bare hands for the first time in days. He'd spent so little time outside of his armor the last few months, he'd forgotten what they looked like. He'd forgotten what _he_looked like. He glanced at his helmet, saw his reflection on the visor and thought about the first time he'd put his armor on. He'd known, the second he put it on, that he would die in it and he didn't want it any other way.

He coughed again, blood falling onto his now shaking hands, but he reached for the Pelican controls and held them with purpose. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he didn't know how much longer he had. Letting his instincts take over, he flew towards what was left of Noble Team.

The Scarab loomed ominously above the cave opening, its mounted guns beginning to track the Pelican's path. On his scanner, Carter watched Six and Emile approach, a sense of finality settling over him. He wondered what Jorge had felt when he stayed behind, if the older Spartan had been ready. They told each other that they were always ready for death, but deep down, Carter knew he wasn't. He would bet that Kat hadn't been either. Now there was someone who had life by the horns. He was angry at the way she had died and he was sure, wherever she was, she was, too.

For the first time in a long time, Carter let himself be afraid, but he pushed it aside to focus on the task at hand. He was still Noble One and he needed to make sure his team made it.

"Noble, you've got a...situation," he said when Six and Emile were nearly at the cave exit.

They came into view, two dark spots in an endless brown wasteland. He saw Six raise her rifle at the Scarab, plant her feet. Emile's shotgun fell to his side.

"Mother...can we get past it, Sir?" Emile asked.

Carter trained his eyes on the Scarab, his hands tightening on the controls. "No, you can't," he replied calmly, eyes already tracking the optimum path to the Scarab's innards. "Not without help."

"Commander, you don't have the firepower," Emile argued.

"No, but I've got the mass."

There was a beat of silence and Carter glanced out the side of the Pelican to see Emile and Six looking up at the Pelican, their visors glinting in the setting sun. Six had lowered her rifle and in her motion, he saw acceptance.

"Solid copy. Hit 'em hard, boss," Emile said unable to keep the sadness from his voice.

Carter smiled darkly, his focus on the Scarab. A part of him knew that like Jorge, it was very possible that his sacrifice would be in vain, but he wasn't a fortune-teller. The only thing he knew for certain was with that Scarab in the way, Six and Emile would not make it to the Autumn.

And that was unacceptable.

He nudged the controls forward, picking up speed. He'd yet to fail a mission and he wasn't going to start now. The Scarab filled his vision.

"You're on your own Noble. Carter, out."

-fin-


	4. A23

**Last**** Laugh**

Purely out of spite, Emile pulled out his kukri and jammed it back into the Elite's neck, a feral grin creasing his face that quickly faded when he slumped back against the railing.

_Bastard __deserved __it__. _

He tried to laugh, but the only sound that came out of his mouth was a strangled gasp. His body convulsed violently as his wound expelled blood onto his armor, spilling onto the ground. He wanted to tell Six to get out of there, but breathing seemed to be the only physical act he was capable of. His only consolation was that he wasn't killed by a pathetic little grunt-though he would not have picked energy sword stabbing as how he wanted to go. It was almost as painful as augmentation.

He could hear Six refusing the ride to the Autumn, opting to take the Mass Driver that he'd manned-with surgical expertise, he wanted to say to her. At least he'd managed to take out a good half dozen Phantoms before they'd managed to sneak up on him. If he hadn't been on two hours sleep in three days, that never would have happened.

Odds were, Six had just refused the last ride off Reach. It was a shame. She was a fine soldier, though they hardly knew each other, but as far as he was concerned, all he needed to know of a person was who they were in battle and she was as fine a soldier as he'd ever seen. They had already lost too many of those this trip, present company included. It had better been worth it. He was damn well sure he wasn't going to brag about giving up his life for a computer chip wherever he ended up next.

It was turning into a struggle to keep his eyes open. Every breath he took were glass shards in his chest. He tipped his head back to look at the sky, didn't want to go in darkness and he was not the kind of soldier who would look away from the unknown. He was ready.

-fin-


	5. B312

**Lone**** Wolf**

Six gasped for air and she closed her eyes, struggling to stay conscious. The shipyard was long behind her, the Pillar of Autumn long gone, and she was starting to think she was the last human left on Reach. It was quiet and a fog had settled in around her, making it hard to see.

She checked her rifle, as she sucked in one breath after another, mentally going down a checklist of her equipment and armor. Her shields were intact and her health was good. She'd run into few Covenant squads since leaving the shipyard and those that did cross her path did not put up much of a fight-at least compared to what she'd left behind.

What she needed now was rest, to sit for a moment before continuing on, but there was nowhere left to hide. Stumbling, she walked up a hill, found a lookout that still had a mounted machine gun. She could see all around her, as far as the fog would let her. Throwing herself on the ground, she slumped more than sat, but she kept her grip on her rifle. She began to nod as she struggled to stay awake, but exhaustion eventually won.

Dimly, she could hear Carter telling her to leave the lone wolf stuff behind and Kat correcting him to tell him that if there was a time to be that wolf, it was now. She could imagine Jorge telling her to be strong and Emile telling her that being a hero only led to a name on a plaque and little else. Jun would be giving her a run down of her odds and reminding her that Spartans tended to beat the odds.

They had little time together, but it was enough for her to know that she needed them to make it through this. With finality, she realized it was only a matter of time for her to join them, wherever they were. It was almost over.

The sound of an incoming Phantom startled her from her troubled sleep and when she opened her eyes pain made her squint against the light. Her crisp movements giving nothing away of her state of mind, she got to her feet, a part of her mind already scanning the landscape even as she was still waking up. She sighed as the red dots on her scanner merged into one giant mass coming straight at her.

She grabbed the mounted gun and tore it free. Jumping down from the lookout, she engaged the first wave of grunts, mowing them down quickly, but the bigger boys were close behind. She took down two before her gun ran out of ammo. Without missing a beat, she reached for her assault rifle with one hand and her pistol with the other. She moved, evading when she could, but there were too many and her shields fizzled once more before shutting down. They closed in on her.

As she fired her weapons, she gritted her teeth against the tightness in her chest. No sleep, little rest, and she was running low on will, but she kept firing. She was not going to go without a fight.

Her visor cracked. In all the years she'd been a Spartan, in all the battles and skirmishes she'd been in, that had never happened before.

Tired, angry, and running out of time, Six threw her helmet off and took a deep, shaking breath when the humid air hit her bare skin. Even as Elites and Specialists closed in on her, she tilted her face up, eyes open wide, and looked at her last sunset.

She blinked once and let her instincts take over when they could no longer be ignored. She moved quickly, smoothly, and with precision. Bodies piled up around her, but her health was now dangerously low.

Plasma grazed her armor and needles stabbed through it. She gritted her teeth, swinging her weapons around to take out whoever was in the way. One got too close and she swung her arm, hitting its helmet with her pistol but dropping it in the process. Her vision swam, her muscles slackened, and she couldn't stop from falling to the ground when she was hit from behind. She flipped over to her back, ready to fire her rifle, but when she pulled the trigger, it clicked, the sound echoing in her ears.

The last thing she saw was orange armor and an energy sword.

-fin-


End file.
